


The Sweater

by iola17



Series: What Are You Wearing? [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Clothing Kink, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 13:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iola17/pseuds/iola17
Summary: "The most important fact about this particular sweater is that it’s the one that David was wearing when he stepped into Ray’s house/photography-studio, shook Patrick’s hand and ever-so-subtly began his conquest of Patrick’s heart."David happens to choose one particular sweater to wear from among his selection. Patrick notices.





	The Sweater

**Author's Note:**

> Next in the series! This one took me longer than the others but finally got it to a place I'm happy with.
> 
> Kind of running out of ideas for this series at the moment but will probably add to it at a later date. For now have some other ideas that I'm working on as well.

As a rule, Patrick has some free time in the mornings as David finishes getting ready.

David’s routine is a little more extensive than his own, involving a range of products and processes that Patrick had never considered before meeting his fiancé. Patrick doesn’t mind that David takes his time or that he has monopolised most of the counter space in the bathroom; it’s part of sharing a life with David and he couldn’t be happier about it.

It had started back when Patrick was still living at Ray’s. He’d gone into the bathroom one day and had to hold onto the towel rail, breathing through the elated bubble filling his chest caused by the sight before him.

He’d never thought it was possible to feel so emotional over a tub of moisturiser until he spotted David’s, left casually on the bathroom counter beside Patrick’s razor and both of their toothbrushes.

Here was proof. Here was tangible proof that this breath-taking man was making himself at home in Patrick’s world. That he had been spending his time with Patrick and that he planned to continue doing so.

Soon after moving out of Ray’s place the volume of David’s products lying out for all to see in Patrick’s bathroom had only grown in size. When Patrick had first looked through the all of the jars and bottles lined up neatly on the bathroom counter, he’d spent a good five minutes stroking his fingers over the collection, reading the labels, cheeks aching from the giddy grin on his face.

He’d then made the mistake of asking David about some of them. The ten minute long explanation on the difference between ‘anti-aging’ eye cream and ‘youth-enhancing’ eye cream (apparently they are _not _the same) is not one Patrick will soon forget.

But although Patrick doesn’t thoroughly understand the intricacies of all the creams and gels populating their bathroom, they make David happy, and that makes Patrick happy. He’s also delighted that he gets to be the one to fully appreciate the aesthetic benefits and reap the rewards of that soft skin pressed against his own on a daily basis.

Besides the skin care regimen, David also likes a steaming hot shower in the morning, spends as much time as is necessary (it varies day to day) to make sure his hair is looking its best and dedicates at least twenty minutes to scrolling through his phone to find out what he’s missed while asleep.

So Patrick tends to fill the time in the mornings while David finishes getting ready by getting a head start on the day. David has suggested in the past that Patrick just sleep a little longer, but the knowledge that David is very possibly taking his clothes off behind Patrick’s closed eyelids is not the easiest thing to ignore. He prefers to watch as David rifles through the underwear drawer to find a fresh pair of boxers before he wanders to the bathroom, stripping off his sleep shirt en route.

This morning Patrick’s pre-chopping celery in preparation for making a batch of split pea soup. A vendor had given them a discount on an order of vegetables and Patrick, reluctant to give more money to the Café than they already do, is planning a large batch to provide both their lunches for the week.

Just as Patrick’s scraping the last of the vegetables into the soup maker, David opens the bathroom door and steps out.

Patrick looks up and his hands still.

His inhale is sharp, loud and David’s head shoots up from where he was fiddling with his cuffs, alarmed eyes immediately going to his frozen fiancé.

“What’s wrong? Did you cut yourself?”

He’s across the room in four steps (okay, so it’s not the biggest apartment in the world but it feels good knowing that wherever they both are in the space, the maximum gap between them is thirteen steps. They can be on the bed together in less than six seconds from anywhere in the apartment.)

David halts in front of Patrick, grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling the knife away with his other hand, setting it down on the counter. He turns Patrick’s hands over in his own, inspecting the skin for nicks or blood, a crease between his brows.

“I can’t see anything.”

Patrick can’t respond because his entire focus is on David’s sweater.

It’s _The_ Sweater.

The black one with the horizontal white stripes running down the centre.

It fits spectacularly across David’s broad chest and arms and the neckline is high enough to hide any marks Patrick might have left on David’s skin the night before. It’s bunched into folds at his waist but it looks long- Patrick thinks it would probably stretch to David’s mid-thigh if pulled down to its full length.

Patrick doesn’t know the designer and frankly couldn’t give the faintest of fucks because the most important fact about this particular sweater is that it’s the one that David was wearing when he stepped into Ray’s house/photography-studio, shook Patrick’s hand and ever-so-subtly began his conquest of Patrick’s heart.

Patrick imagines this particular monochrome masterpiece wound up in the honeymoon room at the motel while David was using it for storage, lost among all the others shortly after they met because he doesn’t remember seeing it since. It must have made its way over in the boxes of David’s clothes they now have piled up in every corner of the apartment until they can find a better place for them.

Maybe it should worry Patrick more that David apparently has so many clothes that he didn’t miss this sweater while it was buried among all the others, particularly as it is Patrick’s assigned role to solve the Closet Conundrum, but he can’t think about anything else right now besides how good the man standing before looks in that striped jumper.

Patrick didn’t anticipate it having this much of an effect on him, seeing it again, but his skin is hot and prickly and he feels like the only thing that might soothe the itch is whatever fabric that sweater is made out of.

All the original, overwhelming feelings of the day he met this incredible person come rushing back, the bewildered and amused _fascination _he felt towards this man the second he laid eyes on him. That first meeting had been a whirlwind, Patrick unable to pinpoint why he was feeling so on edge and jittery.

It only took until his heart had begun palpitating at the mere sound of David’s voice when he heard the start of the stoned voicemails for him to fully recognise and name the tug in his chest as attraction.

Since acknowledging that fact, something had fallen into place in his mind and he wanted to both laugh in sheer relief and break down in tears that it had taken this long for someone to come along to give Patrick those feelings.

And the someone in question had been wearing this sweater on the day he had unknowingly knocked Patrick’s life, finally, onto the right path.

“Patrick? The knife- did you hurt yourself?”

Patrick drags his eyes away from the soft – _it looks so soft – _sweater to meet David’s searching gaze.

“What? Sorry, no I didn’t. It’s fine.”

David’s lips purse as he stares at Patrick’s face.

“O... kay.”

Patrick swallows as his eyes jump between the sweater and David’s face, brain suddenly sparking back to life as it rushes through timings and calculations and how urgent is it _really _to open the store on time?

Maybe they could just take an extra half an hour? No one would notice a thirty minute delay.

The six-seconds-to-the-bed thing is also suddenly feeling too far. The kitchen counter will do. Or the floor. Patrick doesn’t really mind where, he just needs that sweater against as much of his bare skin as possible. His breathing is sounding unsteady to his own ears and that familiar pull is starting in his lower stomach.

But David is leaning in and pecking him, too briefly, on the lips, pulling away before Patrick can fully make a decision.

“Good. So if we don’t need to make a pit stop at the Emergency Room for stitches, can we go to the Cafe and grab some breakfast? I know Ivan is weird but having him in town is almost worth it for the blueberry muffins.”

David is grabbing his bag off the sofa and is halfway towards the door before he realises Patrick isn’t following him.

“Are you coming? The muffins will be gone if we don’t leave soon and we have that meeting with Margaret at nine, remember? It was set for Wednesday, right?”

Fuck. Yes, they do have a meeting with their lunchmeat vendor this morning. They’ve been discussing an increase in their standing order and Margaret has some new samples for them to try.

Normally the promise of expanding their stock and a chance to negotiate an extra discount for the store would add up to a great morning line-up for Patrick.

Right now, however, he sends an apology to his disappointed dick and follows his fiancé and his black and white sweater out the door.

\--

_“Patrick! B13.”_

_“This is for you,” the tall man in the soft-looking black and white sweatshirt said. He handed Patrick the paper ticket before taking Patrick’s offered hand with a strong, warm grip._

_“Patrick.”_

_“David.”_

_So this was David Rose. _

_Patrick had heard about him of course (living with Ray, it was a safe bet that there wasn’t a person in town whose name he hadn’t heard, along with the names and occupations of their immediate family and an estimate on the square footage of their home.) He’d also seen David’s name on his calendar for that day but it was still nice to be able to put a face to the name. It was a good face too, fresh-looking skin with a strong jawline and brow, accentuated by thick, well-maintained eyebrows pulling attention to his dark eyes._

_“David Rose, you bought the general store.”_

_“Leased. Leased the general store.” David fiddled nervously with the ring on his finger._

_“That’s a big deal.”_

_“Is it?” David talked with his hands, seemed unable to keep them still. They were larger than Patrick’s own and one was decorated with four silver rings that David kept twisting around._

_“Yeah, it’s pretty big. You wanna have a seat?” _

_There was something curious about David’s face; Patrick couldn’t seem to take his eyes away for very long._

\--

The whole way to the store, Patrick finds himself sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye. His heart stutters every time he catches sight of one of those stripes.

David is oblivious to the effect his wardrobe choice is having on his fiancé and doesn’t seem to take too much notice that he is solely responsible for keeping the conversation going in the car. They manage to get to the café in time to snag one of the last muffins (and a bacon sandwich for Patrick) so David is humming happily when they enter the store.

Patrick opens up, switches on the lights and the ambient music one-handed as he finishes his sandwich. David leans against the counter as Patrick gets the till float out of the safe, perfectly content and fully occupied with tearing off little pieces of fluffy sponge, nibbling on tiny bits of muffin at a time.

Patrick tries to ignore it. David always does this with Ivan’s muffins, eking them out to last as long as possible. The delicate movements of David’s lips as he pulls the cake into his mouth and the tiny glimpses of tongue Patrick can see are not intended to be seductive.

Unfortunately Patrick’s cock isn’t getting that message and would very much like some of that mouth, right the fuck now please.

Taking a deep breath, Patrick flips to a new notebook page to give himself something to do besides rub his face on David’s sweater. He writes the date and Margaret’s name at the top of the page, getting ready to write down the important parts of the meeting.

David closes his eyes and hums in satisfaction and Patrick grips his pen so hard he’s worried about it snapping.

The muffin lasts so torturously long that Patrick doodles a row of roses down the side of the page, trying his hardest to switch his ears off to David’s satisfied little noises. His mind keeps supplying other situations in which David might make those intoxicating sounds and when David actually groans out loud, Patrick has to clench his eyes closed and breathe deeply to stop himself charging around the counter to get to his fiancé. David’s only just finishing his breakfast by the time Margaret arrives.

She enters, just in time to prevent Patrick from snapping and tackling his fiancé in an extremely unprofessional manner, surrounded by her usual scent of lavender. She’s carrying an insulated picnic basket to keep the meat cool and beams at them both.

Bright and friendly, she’s quickly become one of their favourite vendors and doesn’t even get snarky when Patrick tries for a better deal on her products. Because they like her so much, he doesn’t push too hard and she’s usually willing to work with them to find a compromise to suit them all.

David greets her with a hug and Patrick watches as David’s sweater stretches over his biceps, wishing he could be the one wrapped in David’s arms.

“Patrick!” Margaret says and pulls him into a hug of his own.

She sets the thermal picnic basket down on the counter and unzips it. Beside her, David cranes his head to get a look inside and Patrick’s gaze follows the lines of his fiancé’s throat, eyeing the spot in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder where Patrick’s lips fit so well.

Margaret laughs as David is his usual charming self, gushing over the taste and texture of her products. This is how it usually goes. David is the one to get all excited and flatter the vendor (although in this case it’s entirely warranted. Margaret’s offerings are exceptional quality and a big seller in the store) while Patrick negotiates the order and discounts.

Except Patrick’s having trouble holding up his end of the bargain. His eyes count the lines on David’s sweater (nineteen) over and over, wondering if the upper stripes would line up with his ribs if David lay on top of him.

It would be insane to interrupt the meeting to lie down on the floor and ask David to test this with him, right?

David keeps shooting him concerned glances and even Margaret keeps looking over at him when he remains silent.

“Are you feeling alright, Patrick? You don’t seem yourself,” she says finally and Patrick shakes himself.

“I’m sorry, bad night, maybe. I’m fine.” He smiles, desperately dragging his mind back to the business. “So what were you saying about minimum orders? What are you thinking we should start with?”

\--

_“So why don’t we start with the name of the business?” Patrick forced his eyes down to the page in front of him, unaccountably more determined than usual to do a perfect job for this client._

_When he looked up, David was leaning forward towards him (or maybe just leaning away from the catastrophically bad photo shoot taking place behind him, putting some distance between himself and Ray’s bizarre directions to the bewildered couple.) His sweater pulled across his shoulders as he sat forward in his chair._

_“Oh, I’m oscillating between two names at the moment, so if we could just leave that blank, that would be great.” _

_Huh? That was the easiest question on the form. Maybe this was not going to be so straightforward. _

_“Sure, sure. Give you more time to oscillate.” The muscles surrounding Patrick’s mouth desperately wanted to pull his lips into a smile but he was trying to be professional._

_“Business address?”_

_“Okay, so I’m working on that.” David’s face was as expressive as his hands when he spoke. No muscle was wasted, not even the ones at the corners of his eyes. “I’m currently staying in a motel and I think it might be confusing if I gave you the address to another business.”_

_Patrick nodded along, distracted by the constant movement of that face._

_“Yeah, yeah, for sure. We’ll leave that blank as well.” _

_Normally he’d definitely be more annoyed at someone being this vague about their own business plans by the time they came to file incorporation papers but somehow he wasn’t finding it as rankling as usual. Must be in a particularly benevolent mood._

_“Batting a thousand here, David,” he joked._

_“I don’t know what that means.” David’s mouth twisted and Patrick experienced a similar motion deep in his own stomach. He looked down, dragging his eyes away from that fascinating face._

\--

The rest of the meeting passes uneventfully. Patrick manages to engage himself more in the conversation and finally Margaret leaves, all parties satisfied with the new deal they’d made for themselves.

The second she’s gone, David’s in front of him.

“Honey, are you sure you’re alright? You didn’t even try most of the samples.”

David’s hand flutters uncertainly at Patrick’s forehead, before he presses the back of his hand to Patrick’s head. His teeth worry his lip and Patrick’s eyes fixate the movement, fascinated.

“You don’t _feel_ warm.”

Patrick disagrees. His whole body feels just a couple of degrees past comfortable and it’s all because of David.

He can’t help it. He lunges forward and presses his lips to David’s, dislodging his fiancé’s hand from his head.

Patrick wraps one hand around David’s back, stroking up and down the length of his spine while the other caresses his broad chest through the sweater.

David makes a noise deep in his chest as Patrick’s mouth moves against his own. The sweater fibres are soft against Patrick’s fingertips and he fists his hand at David’s back, gathering the material as he nudges his tongue at David’s lips.

It takes David a second but he’s soon opening his mouth for Patrick, bringing his hands to cradle Patrick’s face as they kiss.

Patrick’s heart is hammering and he slides his hand down, pulling the sweater hem up so he can slip his hand underneath to get to David’s bare skin.

He’s warm and Patrick sighs as he traces the planes of David’s stomach with a trembling hand.

Patrick’s finger dips into David’s navel before travelling down to the waistband of his pants.

They could just lock the door, just for a little while. They’ve fucked in the storeroom before, they don’t make a habit of it but right now Patrick just needs a little time alone with his gorgeous man, he just needs David.

His fingers tuck into the waistband of David’s pants, working his way under the material.

David pulls away, reaching down to steady Patrick’s hand and he laughs shakily.

“I guess you’re fine. Patrick, as much as I’m loving this - oh God, I can’t believe _I’m_ having to be the voice of reason here – we still have a full day of work to get through. We need money for the wedding.”

Patrick, who had been stretching up towards David’s lips again, stops as the words make it to his muggy brain, rational thought fighting its way through.

That’s right. They can’t close the store up to fuck. It would be wildly inappropriate, they aren’t teenagers, they’re responsible adults. Patrick can be stronger than that.

Besides, this business is their livelihoods and they need to maintain business hours for it to be successful. The success of this store is going to give them the money they need for Patrick to make David his husband.

Patrick lets his head drop onto David’s shoulder and sighs, carefully uncurling his fingers from underneath David’s waistband.

It’s not easy being responsible.

\--

_“Hey here’s an easy one. A brief description of the business.”_

_“Um, well it’s a General Store, but it’s also a very specific store. And it’s also not just a store, it’s like a place where people can come and get coffee or drinks, but it’s not a coffee shop, nor is it a bar.”_

_Patrick listened to David’s explanation, taking in the animated hands, the expressive face, and the dark eyes, utterly enchanted and more than a little amused. He lifted his hand to his face to attempt to hide his smile, determined to maintain his professional demeanour._

_“Okay. So we’re pretty clear on what it’s not.”_

_“Yeah, it’s an environment. And yes, we will be selling things, but it’s more like a branded immersive experience.” _

_David circled his hands in front of his chest as he spoke and Patrick’s eyes were drawn once more to the stark black and white sweater stretched across David’s chest. It looked like it would be really soft and comfortable to touch. Patrick couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face._

\--

It’s no easier to concentrate now he’s aware of how soft David’s sweater is underneath his hands. Even knowing that they need to just get through the next few hours and make this as productive a day as they can before heading home doesn’t help.

Quiet moments for Patrick are normally spent in the back, filing receipts or updating their profit and expenditure spreadsheet while David restocks and keeps an eye on the front of house or calls suppliers.

Today, however, it’s impossible to keep his distance from David. He’s unable to put a curtain between them, he can’t have any obstacles between his eyes and his gorgeous fiancé.

David is realigning the soaps when Patrick finds his way to his side for the third time in an hour, standing close enough that his arm brushes David’s sleeve. He starts straightening the rows of facial cleanser beside the soaps, skin prickling every time the material of David’s sweater skims over the bare skin of Patrick’s forearm.

The cleansers aren’t really that messy but Patrick lingers, twisting one of the bottles round and round, acting as if the label is not quite straight. He bites his lips and draws in a breath when David stretches his arm out to reach towards the back of the shelf, muscles flexing under the sweater and Patrick feels his face melt into a soft smile at the sight.

He reaches out to rest a hand on David’s arm and David turns to him, eyebrow raised.

“All okay?”

Patrick is just leaning in for another kiss when the door opens, admitting the morning rush and David is turning away, moving to welcome the inconsiderate intruders.

Patrick sighs and moves back behind the counter as someone approaches the lip balm station, shuffling through the little pots and ruining David’s display. He pastes on his most customer-friendly smile, settling in for a long day.

Except it isn’t just long. This is the first day in the history of the world that might actually be endless.

Every time he glimpses David in the sweater that he was wearing when he changed Patrick’s life without even realising it, he wants to drag him into the back room, uncaring of the customers still milling around.

And now one of those customers is trying Patrick’s last nerve.

She’s been commanding David’s attention for the past fifteen minutes, asking him questions about every single fucking thing they have on the shelves, which wouldn’t be irritating in itself if she didn’t keep touching David’s arm as she’s talking to him.

Patrick is, in theory, taking inventory, but in reality has been standing still, holding the clipboard with an increasingly tight grip as he eavesdrops on the conversation.

Her lilting voice carries across the space and every time she speaks, Patrick is getting more wound up.

“So you’re saying all the products in this range are pesticide-free? Because I’m trying to be more organic.” … “Which of these would you say is the better option? You have to be so careful nowadays and I’d like to be healthier.” … “You have such a great range here; I’d love to come back and explore more thoroughly. Maybe you could set aside some time to talk me through your artistic choices for the store?”

David’s responses are nothing more than pleasant and friendly and the customer isn’t being _too_ overtly flirty. Nothing that she couldn’t deny if confronted. Anyway, he trusts David. The issue is more that Patrick resents her taking time away that David could be spending with him.

David is his usual engaging self, especially after she asks about his vision for the store, gesticulating around the space with a bright, animated face. It’s breath-taking to watch and Patrick doesn’t want to share the sight with this strange woman.

All pretence of inventory forgotten, the clipboard falls to his side, clasped loosely in his fingers and Patrick drinks in the vision that is his excited fiancé. David is hypnotising and Patrick loves him so much his chest aches.

Suddenly Patrick becomes aware of the woman watching him, and he clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from David to look once more at the clipboard in his hand.

David breaks off and when Patrick looks up, David is glancing between the woman and Patrick, confused at the odd tension.

“I’m sorry, are you two…?” The customer says, waving a hand between them as she trails off.

David’s expression clears and he nods. Patrick is thrilled with the grin that infuses David’s face with warmth. “This is Patrick. He’s my fiancé. We own the store together.”

Pride wells in Patrick’s chest as he beams back at his _fiancé._

The woman seems to touch David’s sleeve less after that and leaves shortly afterwards. Clearly fiancé was the magic word.

\--

_“I love the buzzwords, David, but I do need to put something down here.” Patrick pointed to the page in front of him, eyes glancing down before they were drawn once more to the man in front of him. His heart seemed to be beating a little irregularly._

_“Okay, you couldn’t use anything I just said?”_

_It was a moment before Patrick could respond. Feeling a little breathless, he briefly wondered whether he’d seen a doctor’s clinic in this town yet and if he should try scheduling an appointment._

_“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you take these home with you and just fill them out when you have a clearer idea of what you want to do with your business.”_

_“Okay, I do have a clear idea.” David’s brow was furrowed and Patrick was struck with the strangest impulse to smooth his thumb over it._

_“Oh. You’ve settled on a name then.” It was just so much fun to play this game with David. Strange: He doesn’t remember incorporation papers being this fun before._

\--

The rest of the day passes smoothly, if far too slowly for Patrick’s liking.

Wherever David goes, Patrick is aware of him. He can’t stop his eyes trailing down the front of his sweater, imagining the soft fabric under his palms. When David is behind the cash register, Patrick finds an excuse to head into the office, trailing a hand across David’s back as he moves behind him.

If David is walking around the shop floor, Patrick either traces his movements from behind the register or takes any chance to walk over to him, asking questions about their next payment schedules and delivery dates that he already knows the answer to (and even if he didn’t, all the dates of their orders and shipments, as well as invoice due dates are kept in the diary in the desk drawer in the back.)

By the time the clock hits five, Patrick has been loitering by the door for seven minutes, ready to frighten off any customers trying to enter with a glare. He’s watching the clock when the minute hand reaches the twelve and immediately flips the sign to closed before heading over to the till.

The store is already empty and David has disappeared into the back to sort through some boxes, so Patrick is able to cash up quickly without his fiancé to distract him.

His hands are shaking with the effort not to go and find David. He just needs to be professional for a few more minutes. He’s managed all day. He can do it a bit longer. They just need to lock up and go home and he can have David all to himself all night in a place where they’re unlikely to get arrested for public indecency. Just a few more minutes.

David emerges as Patrick finishes counting and rests his hands on Patrick’s shoulders from behind.

“Good day?” He asks in Patrick’s ear, and Patrick shivers as the warm breath spreads over his skin.

“Ye- yeah,” he says, forcing the word past the blockage that has sprung up in his throat. To be honest, despite having just written the figures down, Patrick has no idea if their takings were good, bad or average. David’s hands are kneading at his muscles and the sweater cuffs are brushing Patrick’s neck, raising Goosebumps in their wake.

David rests his chin on Patrick’s shoulder, peering at the notepad where Patrick has written down the day’s numbers. He makes a pleased noise and Patrick feels the vibrations in David’s chest against his back.

“Not bad.”

Patrick murmurs in agreement (although, again, the writing might as well be hieroglyphics for all his brain can focus on it right now) and leans back into David’s broad chest. David’s arms wrap around his waist and he presses a kiss to the side of Patrick’s head.

“Come on. Let’s close up and go home.”

He releases Patrick and steps back, moving away to start turning the lights off. Patrick almost trips in his impatience to get the float to the safe.

\--

_“You’re either very impatient or extremely sure of yourself.”_

_“I threw you a bit of a change-up there, huh?” Patrick twisted his hands together. His palms were clammy._

_“Yeah, again, I don’t know what that means, I don’t play cricket,” David said and Patrick couldn’t help laughing, the joyful sound bursting from his lips._

_“Look, take this, it’s my card and I feel like you will need it.” Patrick bit off the sentence before he could add the ‘Call me’ that was fighting to sneak past his lips. That was... unexpected._

_“You know what, I think I’m good,” David said and privately Patrick thought he was more than good. Great, in fact. “So, um, thank you for this.”_

_“It’s nice to meet you, David.” Patrick didn’t know where the desire to say the other man’s name one more time came from._

_“Yeah.” And then David Rose walked away from him while Patrick fought down the urge to call him back._

\--

Patrick lasts three whole seconds inside the door of the apartment before he’s throwing himself at David. Honestly, he’s impressed he lasted even that long.

He seizes the back of David’s neck and drags his mouth within kissing distance, closing the gap between them with a sigh as their lips finally touch. Turning them both, he propels David backwards until his back hits the wall by the door with a thump.

David is frozen for a moment, stunned at the sudden flurry of movement, before his hands and lips catch up to what is happening. Pressing his lips more firmly to Patrick’s, his hands rise up to clasp Patrick’s waist, pulling the other man flush against him.

David tilts his head and deepens the kiss while Patrick pushes a leg between David’s and rocks into the strong muscle of his fiancé’s thigh, groaning at the pressure.

Patrick’s been on edge all day and arousal is already heating his stomach as he runs his hand down David’s arm to where his hand sits on Patrick’s waist, marvelling in the strength of those arms, concealed under that stunning sweatshirt.

His heart picks up speed when David closes his lips around Patrick’s tongue and _sucks._ Blood rushes south, cock filling at a rate that would be embarrassing if he couldn’t feel David in a similar state, pressing into his lower stomach.

David’s mouth is warm and his tongue is sliding across Patrick’s in a way that’s making his stomach clench as his hands caress Patrick’s waist, sending shivers trembling out across his skin.

David’s hands tightening on Patrick’s waist is all the warning he gets before he’s being spun around, feet struggling to keep himself upright and his back hits the wall instead. The breath rushes out of him at the impact and he grunts into David’s mouth. He’s getting lightheaded; breathing too fast and unsteady, blood dashing away from his head to his groin.

David leans into him, over him, his strong body caging Patrick in and he shoves his leg firmly into the juncture of Patrick’s thighs as his tongue sweeps through Patrick’s mouth.

David grinds against him and Patrick breaks the kiss with a tiny grunt, dragging his lips down to David’s neck, nuzzling into the skin, burrowing into the warmth of this amazing man, the one who changed his life.

“Patrick,” David says breathlessly. “I’m _really_ not complaining, but what is going on with you today?”

Patrick kisses down David’s throat, nosing the neckline of the sweater aside to press his lips into David’s collarbone. He inhales deeply, dragging David’s familiar scent deep into his lungs where it percolates, filling every inch of Patrick’s being. Hints of blood orange and cinnamon in his cologne and the underlying masculine smell of _David _overtake his senses, going straight to his cock.

Their hips continue rocking and Patrick moves one hand to grip David’s ass, pushing him closer.

“Do you know what this is?” Patrick murmurs, plucking at the sweater with his free hand.

“Um,” David begins as Patrick continues spreading kisses along his neck and shoulders. “A sweater? I’ve not worn it in a while. It’s a few seasons old.”

Patrick breath escapes in a low laugh. Like David really thought this was about Patrick critiquing his fashion choices. “If you say so. No. This,” he says, tugging on the sweater again. “Is what you were wearing that day at Ray’s.”

He draws back, leaning his head back against the wall so he can look up into David’s puzzled eyes.

“You were wearing this the first time I ever saw you, David.”

Tears are nudging at the corners of his eyes as the memory fills his head again, stunningly clear and vibrant, and he swallows hard. They’ve come so far since that day and it’s hard to think of the time before David was everything.

David’s eyes clear as understanding comes to him and he glances down at himself.

“Was I? I mean, it might’ve been this one.” He looks back up. “I remember what _you _were wearing and that I spent the whole meeting trying not to make an idiot out of myself. I had to force my brain to think past how cute you were. I don’t actually remember what I was wearing.”

Patrick smiles and traces one of the lines with his finger. “I do. I remember. It was this.”

Then they’re kissing again and David’s tongue is running over the ridges at the roof of Patrick’s mouth, dragging a groan from the pit of Patrick’s stomach. He thrusts his hips forward, rubbing his cock onto David’s leg. One of Patrick’s hands moves underneath David’s sweater and he strokes up until his palm rests over David’s thrumming heart.

David wraps his arms around Patrick’s waist and pulls him with him as he backs towards the bed, both toeing their shoes off on the way. When David’s knees hit the edge, he sits down and smiles against Patrick’s mouth as the shorter man immediately climbs onto David’s lap. Patrick straddles him and shuffles forward as far as he can, groaning as his cock pushes against David’s through his pants.

David grunts as they grind together. “So that’s why you were so distracted today? The sweater?”

“It’s a good sweater,” Patrick defends himself and his hands dive between them to fumble with the fastening on David’s pants. “Might be my favourite.” He kisses David, hard and fast on the lips. “And I _really_ like what’s under it.”

David’s trousers are unbuttoned hastily and Patrick drags his zipper down, desperate to feel his fiancé. His hands are shaking with impatience as he shoves one under the fabric to touch David’s perfect cock. He moans when his fingers brush against the solid length, he wants it so much, he needs David. He’s panting, pulse thundering as he gropes David’s dick.

Patrick can’t wrap his hand around from this angle but strokes his fingers over the hard length and is gratified when David bucks up into his touch.

David’s head falls forward and his eyes fixate on where Patrick’s hand disappears into his pants.

“That’s it. Touch me. Want your hand.”

He pushes his hips up, chasing Patrick’s fingers and hisses when Patrick shuffles himself back so he can wrap his hand around David more easily.

“Yeah, that’s perfect, honey. Stroke my cock.”

Patrick loves this. He can never get over the feeling of David’s cock hard in his hand, the warm, soft skin under his fingers, the way he can feel it throb with every pulse of David’s rapidly beating heart.

He loves getting David this turned on for him and then making him fall apart with his body. He loves having David all over him, inside him, wrapped up in his hand, his mouth, his ass, anywhere, _everywhere_. He loves when David comes for him, tipping over the edge with _Patrick’s_ name the cry on his lips.

Patrick buries his face into the side of David’s face as he works his hand over that fantastic cock, taking David’s earlobe into his mouth and grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin as he squeezes David’s dick. David pushes up into his hand and Patrick’s thumb slides over the tip, drawing a guttural rumble from David.

“You’re so sexy David,” he moans into his ear. “Want you so much. Wanted you for so long.” Since the second he saw him, in fact, standing in Ray’s studio in this sweater, although he didn’t immediately recognise the desire for what it was.

David’s hands fight the buttons on Patrick’s shirt open and he shoves the thin material off Patrick’s shoulders. One hand fists in the back of Patrick’s hair and pulls Patrick away from his neck, tipping his head to the side to bare his throat. David turns his head, pressing his face into Patrick’s neck as he continues to thrust up into Patrick’s tight fist.

Patrick gasps when David sucks his skin just where his neck meets his shoulder and his cock throbs, pushing against the zipper on his jeans.

“This what you’ve been thinking about all day, yeah?” David whispers into Patrick’s skin when his hips jerk up again. “Getting your hands on my cock?”

Patrick moans and tries to nod, but his head is held still by David’s fist. “Couldn’t help it. You’re so hot. Looked so good.”

David mouths at Patrick’s pulse point and his hands release Patrick’s hair to go to the shirt bunched at Patrick’s elbows, dragging it down his arms. One arm slips free but the other hand is still deep inside David’s pants and they both groan when Patrick pulls his hand out to get the shirt off.

When he tries to shove his hand back down David’s pants (where Patrick firmly believes it belongs), David stops him and Patrick opens his mouth to protest.

“I’m gonna let you touch it again really soon, I promise, baby,” David says and his hands are at Patrick’s belt, unbuckling. “I know you want it. I want it too. Love your hand on my cock.”

He leans forward and kisses Patrick hard, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. Patrick’s cock pulses and he gasps in relief as David finally gets him unzipped, releasing some of the pressure.

“See, that’s better isn’t it?” David’s muttering into his mouth. “You weren’t being very fair. Having your fun playing with me but keeping your beautiful body all hidden away. I wanna play too.”

He guides Patrick to standing and drags his jeans and underwear down his legs. Patrick steadies himself on David’s shoulder as he kicks off his pants. As he straightens up, David’s hands grip onto his ass cheeks to pull him closer and Patrick spreads his legs to straddle David’s knees.

As Patrick watches, David’s tongue sneaks out to wet his lips, staring at Patrick’s stiff dick with hooded eyes.

“Such a pretty cock,” he murmurs, leaning in to run his nose down the side before nuzzling into the base. “You want my mouth on you?”

He twists his head and tongues at Patrick’s balls, sending jolts of pleasure up Patrick’s spine. Patrick whimpers when the fingers of David’s hands dig into his ass and he licks his way back up to the head of Patrick’s cock.

“So hard,” David purrs. “You’ve been so good, waiting all day for me. Gonna give you something, you’ve been so good.”

He sucks the head into his mouth and Patrick inhales sharply as David laps up the moisture beading there.

David pulls off and licks at the head of Patrick’s dick, humming contentedly. “Tastes so good.”

He leans forward and takes Patrick into his mouth, holding him in place with his hands at Patrick’s ass. David sucks, long and slow and Patrick’s knees quake beneath him. His hands grab onto David’s shoulders for balance and he moans when he looks down to watch his dick disappear into David’s talented mouth.

He’s panting and David gives another hard suck pulling Patrick forward into his mouth with the hands at his ass.

David sinks down, wrapping his tongue around Patrick’s cock and humming deep in his throat, a contented, satisfied noise.

Patrick’s eyes fall closed as David envelops his dick with his mouth. Patrick’s skin is overheating, he can’t focus on anything other than the blissful warmth of David’s mouth. His cock throbs against David’s tongue and he’s fighting the urge to push into David’s tight throat, thighs trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

David bobs his head, taking more of Patrick into his mouth with every downward movement and encouraging Patrick to push forward with the hands at his ass. Patrick pants and tightens his hold onto his fiancé’s shoulders, fingers digging into the sweater that’s been taunting him all day. Sparks of light are flying behind his eyelids as he gives himself over to the ecstasy of David’s mouth sucking him, lips and tongue caressing his length.

Unexpectedly, David draws away and Patrick gasps at the cold air hitting his wet cock. His eyes fly open and he looks down into David’s eyes, wild, chest heaving. David’s hand wraps around Patrick’s cock and he jerks him, slowly.

“You know what I think, Patrick?” David says, and his voice is deep and rough. Patrick’s stomach twists at his tone and he shakes his head wordlessly, eyes fixed on that heavenly mouth.

“I think you’ve not been fair today. You made me do all that work at the store while you just stared.”

Keeping eye contact, David releases Patrick and reaches down to push his own pants down, lifting his hips to drag them out from underneath him. Patrick steps back to allow David to shove them to the floor and kick them off.

David leans back on his hands, gazing up at Patrick, clad only in that sweater. The hemline has fallen down so the sweater now covers his groin and the hem hits his mid-thighs. Patrick can see the bulge of David’s cock beneath the material and his mouth goes dry as his heart thunders in his ears.

David slowly moves backwards on the bed and settles onto his back, head on the pillow. He slides his hands down the front of his sweater, caressing the material down to his thighs, avoiding the bulge of his dick. Patrick’s eyes run down the full length of his fiancé’s form, drinking in the strong legs, the muscular form encased in the soft material.

“I think it’s your turn to do the work, Patrick. If you do a good job maybe I’ll finish sucking you off. Let you come down my throat.”

He pulls the hem of his sweater up from where it lies on his upper thighs, uncovering his hard cock to Patrick’s greedy eyes before pulling his hands away.

“Get me off, Patrick. Make me come for you.”

Patrick whimpers as he stares at David, all laid out on the bed for him and his dick jumps when David breathes in deeply, sweater stretching across his chest as he gazes steadily at Patrick. David’s cock is gorgeous, long and thick, leaking at the head and it quivers with every pulse of the blood pounding through it as Patrick looks on. It’s a heart-stopping sight.

One hand stretches out to Patrick. “Come here.”

His words jolt Patrick into action and he clambers onto the bed, pressing his naked body against David’s half-dressed form and moaning when he feels fabric against his chest. David grabs Patrick’s hand and licks his palm before pulling it onto his dick.

“Come on, Patrick. Use your hand for me.”

David moves his hand away and reaches up to grasp the back of Patrick’s head. He pulls him down for a kiss as Patrick starts stroking David and David grunts into his mouth.

Patrick’s fingers tighten on David’s cock and he twists his wrist as he tugs. His hand speeds up, the rough sound of skin rubbing over skin filling the spaces between their ragged breaths and wet sounds of their lips. David twitches in his hand and thrusts up hard into Patrick’s fist, fucking into his fingers.

Patrick’s tongue pushes into David’s mouth as his hand jerks David’s cock, chasing after the faint taste of his own precome on David’s tongue. David is breathing loudly through his nose as Patrick’s hand picks up speed and one of David’s hands settles onto Patrick’s ass, encouraging him to grind into David’s thigh.

Patrick sighs at the pressure on his cock as he pushes into David’s leg, rubbing himself on the strong, solid muscle, but it isn’t enough. Not enough friction, not enough pressure, not _enough._

He shifts over to bring his dick closer to David’s and loosens his grip on David’s cock to give him room to bring himself into contact with his fiancé. Both of them groan at the sensation of their dicks rubbing together and David breaks the kiss to look down between their bodies.

“_Fuck. _We look so good together,” David hisses and his hips jerk forwards, cock sliding along Patrick’s.

Patrick’s cock is still wet from David’s saliva but Patrick brings his palm up, holding it in front of David’s mouth.

“Open.” David’s jaw drops obediently and Patrick’s fingers push between his lips, deep into David’s mouth. He lets David run his tongue across and between the digits, slicking up his hand. David sucks on Patrick’s fingers, dark eyes falling shut and he fucking _moans, _a debauched, shameless sound escaping around the fingers stuffed into his mouth.

Patrick’s cock throbs as David’s lips close around his fingers, sucking them deep into his mouth. He can’t stop his hips shunting forward desperately into David’s pelvis, dick already missing that fabulous wet heat.

When his hand is wet with saliva, Patrick reaches down again and wraps his fingers around as much of both of them as he can. Their cocks slide against each other and into Patrick’s fist as his fingers close around them, jerking them both. Adjusting his hold, he presses their cocks together, creating a tight channel for them both to fuck into.

Together they find a rhythm, Patrick’s fist moving in counterpoint to the thrusting of their hips and Patrick’s head falls onto David’s shoulder as they move together, racing towards their release.

David is panting in his ear and Patrick can feel the sweater heaving up and down with every dragged-in breath.

“So gorgeous, David. You’re so gorgeous. I love you,” Patrick pants as his fist pulls them both together. His hand isn’t big enough to completely enclose them both so he focuses more on David, wrapping his fingers around that beautiful, thick cock, giving him the attention he deserves.

“Fuck, Patrick, so good. Fuck me,” David hisses, as he bucks up, pushing himself into Patrick’s fist. One of his hand is gripping Patrick’s shoulder, nails digging into the skin while the other clutches at his ass, encouraging Patrick to thrust forward on top of him.

David’s sweating, Patrick can taste the salt on his skin when he brushes his lips over his neck above the sweater neckline. He must be so warm in that sweater, Patrick realises and his free hand goes to push it up, exposing as much of David’s stomach and lower chest as he can with David still lying on the fabric.

His hand runs over David’s skin, revelling in the firm muscles of David’s stomach twitching underneath his palm as he barrels towards his climax.

David grunts as he pushes into Patrick’s fingers. “Close, honey, I’m gonna come.”

David’s hand clenches on Patrick’s ass as Patrick fucks forwards, moaning at the friction.

Patrick pulls away from David’s neck and presses a kiss onto David’s waiting lips. When he draws back he looks down the length of their bodies, at the image of them both thrusting together and against each other in Patrick’s fist. Clear precome leaks from the head of David’s dick and Patrick’s breath catches at the sight.

“David, will… Want you to come on my chest. Come all over me.”

David hisses and his hand leaves Patrick’s ass to join the other at Patrick’s shoulders. He pushes at them, forcing Patrick back.

“_Yes. _Off. Lie on your back.”

Patrick lifts himself away, rolling off David, but has barely started moving before David is sitting up, pushing at Patrick’s body, turning him to lie flat.

David kneels, rising over him. He straddles Patrick’s thighs and grasps his own dick, tugging frantically as he stares down at Patrick’s body laid out beneath him.

“So fucking pretty. My gorgeous man. Mine.”

David’s hand strokes his cock and Patrick bites his lip, eyes following the rapid movement.

“Gonna come all over that beautiful skin. Want you covered with my come.”

Patrick’s hands reach for David, bunching into his sweater at his sides.

“_Yes. _Please, David. Give me your come.”

“So sexy. Love you. Love your body. _Patrick_.” David’s face is red and sweating as he gasps.

The sweater has fallen down again, almost covering David’s cock from Patrick’s view and Patrick whines in protest. David’s free hand shoves his sweater out of the way.

“That better? You wanna see my cock?”

Patrick nods as his heart pounds and his cock pulses, eyes fixed on David, kneeling above Patrick with his dick in his hand.

“Yeah. Wanna see it. Fuck, that’s hot. Come on me, David.” Patrick bites his lips and stretches his arms up to brace on the headboard, displaying the full length of his body. His cock throbs as it leaks onto his stomach, desperate for attention.

“So good for me, honey. Gonna come. So close, baby.”

Patrick arches his back, offering his body up for David’s eager eyes and whines when David’s hand moves faster. David’s teeth clench and he aims his cock at Patrick’s chest just as he starts to come.

David groans as come spurts out of his dick, striping up Patrick’s stomach and chest. Patrick tilts his head back, a couple of drops land on his outstretched neck and he moans at the feeling of David’s release hitting his body, marking him.

David breathes heavily as he watches his come shoot out of his cock onto Patrick’s body with shadowed eyes. Patrick gasps and bites his lip as cold air hits the fluid on his skin.

“You look so fucking perfect,” David growls. “Filthy with my come. Want you like this always.”

He’s moving down the bed more quickly than Patrick can follow the motion and the next moment a tight heat engulfs Patrick’s cock and he cries out loudly.

David’s expert mouth moves down on him until he’s balls-deep in that glorious warmth and Patrick’s brain falls apart.

David’s swallowing around him and Patrick clenches his eyes closed as sparks fly through his bloodstream. He’s so close. He’s sticky with David’s come and his dick’s halfway down David’s throat and he’s so desperate for it, he can’t think.

A long finger brushes over David’s release on Patrick’s stomach, gathering some up before moving down to push between Patrick’s ass cheeks, pressing at his hole.

Patrick cries out as David’s finger slides past his entrance, pushing David’s come inside. One finger presses inside him, just past the first knuckle and Patrick clenches down, heart rate spiking at the pressure.

David’s finger twists in his ass, dragging against his walls, and Patrick comes with a shout, straight down David’s waiting throat. David holds him in his mouth until his cock stops jerking, swallowing as Patrick’s dick empties.

He pulls off gently, licking any traces of come from Patrick’s cock and shimmies up the bed to lie beside Patrick. Patrick’s eyes are closed, he’s dragging air into his lungs as he catches his breath. His whole body is relaxed, everything is pleasantly far away as he comes down from his high, heartbeat slowing.

David’s head rests on his shoulder and a hand strokes his chest, a finger running over the drying evidence of David’s release.

“Dirty boy,” David says and Patrick can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” Patrick sighs, eyes still closed and his hand comes up to cover David’s on his chest. David laughs softly.

“I love it,” he agrees.

Patrick opens his eyes and cranes his neck to kiss the top of David’s hair as he squeezes David’s hand. He inhales deeply, face buried in David’s hair and his free hand strokes over David’s back, caressing him through his jumper.

David rubs his cheek onto Patrick’s shoulder and exhales happily.

“So I guess you liked the sweater then? When we met.”

“I liked everything,” Patrick corrects. “I just didn’t realise quite how much at first. But yes, I liked the sweater.”

“You never said.” David turns his head to look up at Patrick.

Patrick purses his lips. “I feel like I would have come across weird if I’d immediately said to a guy I just met ‘Hi, I’m Patrick, I know you’re here for help with paperwork but your sweater looks really soft, so can I rub my face on it real quick?’”

David grins. “You don’t think working out of Ray’s back room didn’t make me think you were a little weird by association?”

“Well, then I’m very glad I didn’t add that I would’ve given you the option to take it off first.”

David bursts out laughing. “So we’d be filling out paperwork with me shirtless and you rubbing my sweater over your face?”

Patrick nods seriously. “With Ray in the background, forcing tennis racquets into the hands of unsuspecting couples, yes.”

“Super romantic.”

Patrick leans over to press a kiss onto David’s forehead. “You don’t think the way we met was romantic enough?”

“You mean with me desperately trying to explain myself to this really cute guy who was clearly finding me so very amusing?”

Patrick shakes his head. “I wasn’t laughing at you, David. It was more… You were charming. Magnetic.” He presses a quick kiss to David’s lips. “You were fun to be around. I wanted to have fun with you.”

David smirks. “Mission accomplished.”

Patrick’s hand rises from on top of David’s to cradle his cheek, pulling him towards his lips.

“Mission accomplished,” he repeats, murmuring against his fiancé’s lips before kissing him gently.

They’re just settling into the kiss when David’s stomach rumbles and he pulls away with a chuckle.

“So before you so rudely _leapt _on me – no, shh, it’s _really _not a problem – before I’d even taken my shoes off, I was _going _to suggest ordering in and making out on the couch all night.”

Patrick hums contentedly. “Sounds good to me.”

David twists away, ignoring Patrick’s whine of protest and opens the drawer of the bedside table. He pulls out the wipes and cleans them both up, efficient even with Patrick stroking at his hair and trying to pull his mouth down to his own.

As he finishes wiping the come off Patrick’s chest, he finally gives in to Patrick’s clutching hands, leaning over to kiss his fiancé.

“There. All clean again,” he says as he pulls away.

Patrick pouts, and David adds with a laugh, “Don’t worry. We’ll get you messy again later.”

He rolls himself out of bed and grabs his pajama trousers from the bottom of the bed, dragging them up as he stands from the bed.

“Come on. Food first, then more sex.” He grins down at Patrick and Patrick rolls his eyes, reaching for his own trousers.

David is already heading for the couch as Patrick pulls his pants over his hips, going over to pick up the pile of take-out menus on the side table.

As he heads over to join him, Patrick spots the soup maker still sitting on the counter from that morning, light blinking indicating it’s ready. He dismisses it and walks straight past.

The soup can keep until tomorrow. David’s waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to EmuFume and everyone else who offered suggestions as to what Patrick could be cooking. Went with split pea soup as it fit nicely.


End file.
